It was already afternoon when Chen Wanqing and Zhao Jing returned to the Zhao Village.

They were lucky to have caught Dashan’s last ox-cart trip from Qingshui County.

Starting tomorrow until the Lantern Festival, Dashan was also going to take a break and celebrate the New Year at home, so he wouldn’t be driving his cart.

The two bid farewell to Dashan and headed home.

Before they even reached their front door, they could smell a rich, meaty aroma wafting from the house.

Inside, meat was stewing on one of the stoves, while a wok half-filled with hot oil sat on the other. Mrs. Zhao and Xiang’er were frying meatballs.

The weather was cold, and it was freezing even standing by the stoves.

Rolling the meatballs required baring one’s hands and wrists to the chill, and it was so cold their hands were frozen stiff—cold enough, it felt, to turn their faces blue.

Seeing this, Chen Wanqing quickly sent Xiang’er to tend the fire while she rolled up her own sleeves, ready to help.

But Zhao Jing stopped her first. "Wanqing, why don’t you go put away the things we bought? I’ll take care of this."

Mrs. Zhao agreed. "Yes, Qing’er, you should go inside and rest for a bit. The trip back and forth must have been tiring. Go lie down. I’ll have Xiang’er bring you some hot sweetwater in a little while."

"There’s no need, Mother. We took Dashan’s ox-cart back, so it wasn’t tiring. Let me help you; it’ll go faster." This time, she was the one shooing Zhao Jing away. "You should go study. Don’t get in the way here."

Mrs. Zhao smiled at her words. "Qing’er, don’t underestimate Jing. He knows how to do all of this."

The first year after her husband passed away, with the New Year less than two months away, she had been so overcome with grief that she couldn’t even get out of bed.

That year, and for the two years that followed, it was Jing who managed all the New Year preparations with Xiang’er.

But Xiang’er was so small and thin; Jing doted on her too much to ever order her around.

He basically did everything himself. As a result, Jing wasn’t just familiar with kitchen work; he was very skilled at it.

Although the taste of his cooking was debatable, he was truly an expert, even more efficient at the work than she was.

In the end, Zhao Jing stayed. He was assigned the task of tending the fire.

As he tended the fire, he recounted what he’d heard in the county seat, causing Mrs. Zhao to sigh repeatedly, though it was unclear what exactly she was sighing about.

They bustled about all afternoon, stewing meat and chicken, frying meatballs and pork ribs.

They tasted the food as they cooked, and by the time everything was ready, everyone was already full.

So, they decided against making congee and simply boiled some noodles with greens. Each person had a small, modest bowl, and that served as their dinner.

As they were getting ready to return to their rooms, Mrs. Zhao suddenly remembered that they hadn’t put up the household’s couplets yet.

For the past three years, they hadn’t put up spring couplets for the New Year due to the mourning period. But this year, the mourning was over, and with a new bride in the family, the couplets and window paper-cuts had to be displayed, no matter what.

The people of Qingshui County put up their spring couplets either on the afternoon of the twenty-eighth or the afternoon of the twenty-ninth.

A careful observer would notice that those who put them up on the twenty-eighth were mostly families who had migrated from Guanzhong, while those who did so on the twenty-ninth were mostly natives of Qingshui County.

Zhao Jing’s family were, without a doubt, natives of Qingshui County. As such, all members of the Zhao clan, including Zhao Jing, followed the custom of putting up their spring couplets in the afternoon.

However, the sky was already getting dark, so it was indeed a bit late to be putting up couplets.

Mrs. Zhao and Xiang’er put the paper-cuts on the windows, while Chen Wanqing and Zhao Jing moved a ladder to the doorway to hang the spring couplets.

Zhao Jing had just finished pasting the one above the doorframe when a figure appeared on the road in the distance—it was Zhao Tang.

Zhao Tang was tall and imposing, with a commanding presence. When he saw the Zhao Family’s "Qilin child," Zhao Jing, climbing a ladder himself, he was absolutely horrified. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

Zhao Tang rushed over in just a few strides. He didn’t dare to speak loudly for fear of startling Zhao Jing, so he whispered, "Jing, get down from there! It’s just hanging couplets, why are you up there yourself? Come down first, I’ll do it for you."

Chen Wanqing didn’t say anything, just smiled as she held the ladder steady.

Zhao Jing looked at Zhao Tang and couldn’t help but laugh as well. "Cousin, I’m seventeen this year, not seven."

"You’re less sturdy than the seven-year-olds in the village! Those kids climb trees and wade in rivers. I wouldn’t bat an eye if they climbed a ladder, or even the roof, but are you the same? With your Scholar’s constitution, if you fell and got hurt, my uncle would have my hide when he finds out I was right here and didn’t help."

Zhao Jing’s face darkened. "Cousin."

"Oh, right, your wife’s here. Fine, I won’t say any more. But we’re all family, we all know the deal, right? You think if I cover for you, your wife won’t know you have the constitution of a Scholar? Stop dawdling and get down here. I’ll hang it for you. Be careful now, don’t you go breaking an arm or a leg, or I’ll be in big trouble."